


I'm Not Most People

by hazellepotter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Forgiveness, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Loneliness, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Redemption, hog's head inn, past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 16:07:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16747183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazellepotter/pseuds/hazellepotter
Summary: "Why do you care?""For the same reason you cared about defending my non-existent honor. I'm not most people."





	I'm Not Most People

To everyone's surprise, Minerva McGonagall was more lenient as Headmistress at Hogwarts when the war ended. Maybe it was because there was hardly anything to fear anymore. _Or so they all thought._

Hermione had a lot to fear. Her nightmares kept her up; she couldn't find her parents. Maybe she would _never_ find her parents. Ron could hardly look at her. Harry was so preoccupied with his own nightmares that he wasn't much help when it came to getting Ron to come around. The only good thing was that they all surprisingly felt at home being back at Hogwarts, even after all they had lost there that night.

Hermione felt truly alone, and it became very apparent when she would spend every Tuesday night in Hogsmeade at the Hog's Head Inn's bar to avoid the world. Aberforth was used to her coming in at this point and basically had her bar-stool reserved. He never bothered her, he never forced her to talk, he just served her Butterbeer. It was the only place she felt she could escape to. The Three Broomsticks was still the most popular place to be, but Hermione never bothered being popular. She avoided it like the plague, especially after being back at school.

This Tuesday night at the end of November was no different. Snow was starting to fall, and Hermione felt the need to escape more than ever. She wanted to preoccupy herself with random distractions. So when two wizards walked into the bar and sat next to her favorite spot, she decided not to ignore them as they whispered and gazed in her direction.

"Yes," she confirmed, "I am Hermione Granger. Harry Potter's best friend. I helped saved the world. _Blah, blah._ "

The men looked at her with shocked expressions and one of them said, "You should be proud."

" _I am_ ," she answered quickly, "But I don't want to think about the war."

The other one nodded, "Sorry to bother you, miss. We will get back to our Firewhiskey."

Hermione lifted her Butterbeer in their direction and then took a sip. She acted like she wasn't listening to their conversation, but she was. She was _always_ listening to whispers. It was second nature to her now. She always felt like people were hiding something.

"Can you believe they let that Malfoy boy back into Hogwarts?" One of the men whispered, "I would have sent him and his parents to Azkaban with all of the other Death Eaters."

"That boy is a bloody coward," the other man responded, "He should never have gotten a second chance."

"Everyone deserves a second chance," Hermione interrupted, "Anyone who is honorable, such as Headmistress McGonagall, _knows_ that fact."

"You are defending the Malfoy boy?" The first man spat, "After all his family did?"

"There are things you don't know. The Malfoy family's fate after the war was fair."

"I know enough to know it was not fair!"

Hermione glared in their direction. The second man had his hand on his friend's shoulder to calm him down, but Hermione was not backing down.

"You don't know _anything_ ," she argued, "Draco is not like his parents, and his parents were not the worst of their lot. I do not need to listen to your ignorance. Goodnight, sir."

The man blinked in shock, and his face was so red Hermione swore it was going to explode. But she didn't care.

She watched Aberforth smirk as she made her way to the exit, but she ran straight into a tall body as she was making strides.

"I'm sorry-" Hermione started, but she stopped in her tracks as soon as she looked at the tall body's face. **It was Draco Malfoy.**

"How long have you been standing there?" Hermione asked.

"Long enough."

Embarrassed, Hermione felt her cheeks flush. She quickly looked away from him. 

"Have a good night, Malfoy," Hermione mumbled. She pushed past him and out into the cold to avoid his questions, but she could not get away fast enough.

She heard his fast strides behind her. 

"Granger, wait up!" He called, "You can't act like that did not just happen!"

Hermione stopped in her tracks and turned around. She pulled her jacket closer to her chest. The snow outside was starting to pile down. She could hardly see his face as he continued walking toward her. Once he was in front of her, she focused on his ragged breathing to calm herself down so she could speak.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked.

"You stuck up for me. Why?"

"Because it was the right thing to do."

"Most people would disagree."

_"I'm not most people."_

All Hermione could hear now was the snow hitting the wet pavement. Soon, she knew she wouldn't be able to hear it hit the fresh powder at all. She seemed to have stunned Draco with her words, but not for long. He was quick-witted.

"You certainly are not," Draco agreed, "You _never_ have been."

It was then Hermione looked into his grey eyes. They were no longer cold and spiteful. For the first time, she could see warmth behind them. They reminded her of her father's eyes; she swallowed down the lump in her throat and blinked away her tears.

"I-I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," Draco started, "I was just trying to-"

"No, it isn't you," Hermione interrupted, "You just.. remind me of someone I have lost. That is all."

Draco looked down at her intently, but she tried to avoid his gaze. She did not need another reminder of what she had lost. _Of what she had to do._

"Who do I remind you of?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It seems to matter."

"Why do you care?"

"For the same reason you cared about defending my non-existent honor. _I'm not most people._ "

Hermione couldn't help but smirk slightly at his comment. She watched the corners of his mouth turn up, but his face suddenly turned serious as he thought about something.

"How can you forgive me after all those years of hatred? After what my.. what my aunt did to you?"

"You are not your aunt," she told him, "You have _chosen_ to be someone else. You _always_ wanted to be someone else."

"Just like you are not what you had to do during the war, Hermione Granger. _You were just surviving._ "

It was then for the first time in months Hermione had not felt alone. She let Draco Malfoy grab her hand and lace their fingers together in that moment. She let Draco Malfoy walk her back to the castle in silence. And as they parted ways, she let him say goodnight, and she promised to see him soon. 

It was time to leave the past behind her. After-all, she was just surviving. And there was always hope. She could not give up.

**Not now.**


End file.
